


Vietnam

by KatieComma



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Feels, M/M, Post-Jack Fix It, Smut, feelsy smut, many feels, much smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:35:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23058610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatieComma/pseuds/KatieComma
Summary: After Jack leaves to find Kovacs, Mac can't focus.To the point that Matty forces him to take a vacation.Mac gets lost in finding himself, until one day a familiar face reappears.
Relationships: Jack Dalton/Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016)
Comments: 22
Kudos: 136





	Vietnam

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks Orianess for encouraging my crazy smutty mind to finish this one! And for doing a read-over for me!

Things weren’t the same when Jack left.

Mac lost his spark, his drive, his excitement.

He went through the motions, saved people, improvised… but without Jack there was something missing.

It wasn’t like he’d never done missions without Jack. They’d been split up their fare share of times. But it was always with the knowledge that it was temporary. One mission here or there.

This was different. 

At first it had felt the same. Like Mac would do this mission and go home and hang out with Jack. But then Jack wasn’t there. Not the first time, or the time after.

And with each return to home with no Jack in sight, something faded in Mac a little. And he was left wanting. But wanting what he wasn’t sure. Was it just Jack that he missed? Or had Jack filled a part of him he didn’t know had been empty? How was he supposed to fill it with Jack gone?

In the end, after a mission that Mac had lost focus on and spectacularly messed up, Matty pulled him aside.

“I think you need a break, Mac,” she’d said. “That vacation you never take. You should take it now.”

“Matty, I’m fine,” he’d protested, “I’ll just work in the lab for a bit and-”

“It’s not an optional vacation Mac,” she’d countered.

The first week was torture. At home, with nothing to do. The few experiments he’d been working on had taken no time at all to finish up. Work had been the only thing getting in the way. And Mac had started to go stir crazy.

That’s when he’d decided to travel. He had enough time for it. Money wasn’t a problem. And there were so many places in the world to see. So many things to learn.

Europe was first. Bouncing around from country to country and seeing the things he’d missed when there on a rushed mission. 

He spent extra time in Rome; obsessed with the visible history he roamed the museums and ruins for hours. He’d been at the coliseum for the entire day, and could feel the sun burn like acid on his nose and cheeks when a beautiful tour guide had asked him to dinner, her accent thick and luscious like her hips. It twisted something deep down in Mac instead of intriguing him, and he rebuffed her as gentle as he could before leaving.

He wasn’t in the place for romance; he was in the middle of finding himself. He told himself that’s all it was. She was beautiful and sensual and absolutely his type, and yet her invitation had sent a shudder through him at the core.

He left Rome promptly after that.

The destinations made no sense, and that was fine with Mac. He would pick based on his urges, with no sense or reason to the pattern. Like he was running from something, and zig zagging so it would never find him.

After six months he found himself in Vietnam. 

His skin was bronzed from long days wandering and finding and exploring. He’d always been pale, but now his skin was golden and worn. It reminded him of the way his face and hands had looked in Afghanistan, and every day he looked in the mirror he was reminded of the days he’d spent there with Jack. They hadn’t always been great times. War was never pleasant. But the friendship they’d forged there was something different entirely. Something that cut to the heart of Mac when he thought of how he’d lost it. It led to thinking about where Jack was, and if he was dead somewhere.

So Mac stopped looking in mirrors.

He settled into a small city in the Mekong Delta: My Tho. He’d only planned to stay a few days, but it had turned into weeks when he was out with a guide exploring a remote part of the river system and come upon a small town with a problem. The pilings for the riverside buildings were collapsing into the river bed. Mac resolved to stay and help solve the problem. It had given his mind something to work on.

One long day he returned to the city by boat. The sun was just setting as the boat nudged up to the docks. Without looking, Mac reached out for the edge of the dock to pull himself up. A hand grabbed his wrist instead. Normally Mac would have pushed back, would have fought against a strange grip, agent's instincts kicking in. Instead he sank into it because it was immediately comforting and familiar. Just like the leather cuff wrapped around the wrist just above that hand.

Mac looked up in surprise, eyes wide.

Jack towered over him, looking just the same as he had the day he left. Well, maybe a few things had changed: Jack’s worn Aerosmith tee was a bit tighter in the shoulders than it had been. But his mohawk was speckled with the same amount of grey, and he seemed to be in tact, skinny jeans and all.

“Jack?” Mac asked as he let himself get pulled up onto the dock. “What are you-”

“Got Riley to track your cell,” Jack said. “Hope it’s not too intrusive… comin’ out here to interrupt your-”

Mac cut Jack’s words off with a tight hug, and Jack’s arms immediately closed around him.

“Glad to see you too hoss,” he said, his stubble rubbing across Mac’s neck.

And he felt whole again immediately. That space in him that had been empty was overflowing. The answer he’d been searching for had been as simple as he’d thought: Jack.

Mac buried his face into Jack’s neck and willed himself not to cry with happiness. His fingers dug into the muscles of Jack’s back and he never wanted to let go.

“Mac?” A soft voice ventured behind him. Quyen, his guide.

He pulled away from Jack and tried to wipe the moisture from his eyes as subtly as possible, but he saw Jack grin and look away out of the corner of his eye.

“Ban on chu?” Quyen asked.

Mac didn’t have to work too hard on translating that one. Are you alright? He’d been asked that a lot while working out on the river. Too many times he’d dropped things on his feet, or slipped and fallen.

“Good,” Mac said, and then realized he had spoken English. “Tot,” he translated.

Quyen nodded. “Ve na thoi,” she said. Another one he knew well: Let’s go home. Many times she’d urged him to stop working and go home for the night.

Mac tried to work the language around in his head from what he knew, to let Quyen know he would be home late, if he was home at all. He wanted to spend time with Jack, and if he knew Jack half as well as he thought, they’d be up talking all night.

Jack spoke up behind him, spouting a long sentence or two of Vietnamese. Mac didn’t catch any of it because he was too dumbstruck, and too bad at Vietnamese.

Quyen’s eyes went wide, and she looked questioningly back to Mac.

Mac turned to Jack with a smile. “You speak Vietnamese? Since when?”

Jack smiled in return. “That’s classified,” he said.

Quyen spoke quickly to Jack. Too quickly for Mac to understand any of it. She sounded defensive.

Jack put his hands up as though in surrender and said a few things back.

Quyen narrowed her eyes at Jack and looked back to Mac. Her English was far better than Mac’s Vietnamese, but she’d been helping him to learn, so most of the time she didn’t use it. “You stay with him tonight?” She pointed to Jack.

Mac nodded. “I’ll stay with him tonight.”

She spit another phrase at Jack before she finished securing the boat and headed up off the dock.

“You got one protective little girlfriend there,” Jack said as they slowly followed in her wake, their feet thunking on the wood.

“More like the mother I never had,” Mac said, “I’ve been staying with Quyen and her family, since she agreed to take me up river everyday. But I’ll tell you all about that later. What are you doing here, Jack?”

Jack ducked his head and smiled. “I got back and you were gone,” he said. “And you know… I couldn’t just… well, I had Riley track your cell and here I am.”

Mac wanted to ask about the “I couldn’t just…” but decided he’d wait until they were somewhere more private.

“Now, you look like a washed up rat,” Jack said. “Think you could use some dinner?”

Mac laughed, and it was the laugh he never realized was just for Jack. It hurt, he hadn’t used the muscles in so long. “Let’s do it,” Mac said.

They reached the street and Jack threw a leg over a motorcycle.

“Really?” Mac asked.

“Best way to travel Vietnam dude,” Jack said, pulling a helmet on; there was a second one resting on the back seat.

Mac pulled the helmet on, jumped on the backseat of the bike, and wrapped his arms around Jack’s middle.

“Hold on tight,” Jack called out through his helmet.

“I know, I know,” Mac said, “I remember Greece. With that motorbike on the cliffside road.”

Jack barked some laughter and started up the bike. “Classic!”

And there it was. Like Jack had never left. They were back to the same banter and reminiscences that they’d always had.

Mac had taken so much for granted, and resolved never to do it again. Instead he tightened his arms around Jack and held on tight as they rounded corners and made their way into the middle of My Tho.

They pulled up in front of a fairly fancy hotel, or as fancy as they got in a small city like My Tho.

Mac hopped off and whistled as he took off his helmet. “You’re really springing for the fancy stuff these days,” he joked.

Jack threw his leg over and set the bike on its stand. “Yeah well, some of the places I stayed while hunting Kovacs weren’t exactly the Ritz. I’m gonna enjoy myself for the next little while. It’s all spa days and steak from here on out.”

They walked into the lobby and Mac took one look at the fancy restaurant and balked. “Hey, do you think I could borrow a shower first?” he asked. “And maybe a change of clothes?” He looked down at himself, covered in dirt, his shoes and the bottom of his pants soaked in river water. “They’ll probably kick us out if I go in like this.”

Jack nodded. “Told you: drowned rat.” He laughed and dragged Mac toward the elevator.

There wasn’t a moment of silence between them.

“Tell me about Kovacs?” Mac asked, at the same time Jack said: “What have you been doin’ here for three weeks already?”

They spent the elevator ride and the walk down the hall trying to talk over each other and tell stories.

Jack’s room was pristine: white walls and tiles, and bright lights. The world outside full of little houses with fading paint, and brown river water seemed like a TV channel instead of a window. How could these two places, so different, exist with just wall between them?

Mac heard the shower turn on, and tossed his bag onto he desk by the window. “I’ll be quick," he told Jack as he came out of the bathroom.

“Here,” Jack dug into the bag strewn across the second bed and threw a pair of jeans and a t-shirt at Mac.

“Thanks man,” Mac said. He stepped into the bathroom, almost afraid to close the door. Like, somehow, he would come out and be alone again and Jack wouldn’t be there. A figment of his imagination or something. He left the door open a crack.

He held Jack’s clothes in his hand and was about to set them on the long vanity counter when an urge overcame him. He gave into it and put Jack’s t-shirt to his face and inhaled. It was pure Jack. Jack was back. Jack had come to find him.

Mac was home.

He set the clothing down reverently and undressed, climbing into the steaming hot shower and washing off the long, hard day. Despite the fact that it had been a long hard day his body coursed with energy. He knew he would stay up all night talking to Jack, when normally he would have just collapsed onto a bed and slept like the dead.

He spent much longer than he should have in the shower, but the heat felt so good on his skin and across his scalp that he couldn’t resist. Finally he crawled out, dried off and pulled on Jack’s jeans. The mirror started to clear and he caught a glimpse of himself: bronzed, his hair bleached almost white by the sun, grown long; he’d often felt it brush his shoulders while he worked, but hadn’t thought much about it. His face was speckled with scruff. When was the last time he’d shaved? He couldn’t remember. Did he even still own a razor?

“You alright hoss?” Jack’s voice drifted into the bathroom as he opened the door. “Did you drown or somethin’?”

“No,” Mac said absently, still looking at himself. “I was just…” He dragged a hand across his jaw. He was never good at growing facial hair, one of the reasons he always shaved, but he had the start of a beard going on.

“You do have a bit of the homeless dude vibe going on,” Jack said as he stepped up behind Mac. “I can help you clean up a bit, if you want? Trim your hair up a bit?”

Mac turned to Jack. “Yeah, sure,” he said.

Their eyes met and something was there between them: a spark that Mac had always ignored.

“It’ll be good…” Mac looked down at Jack’s mouth, watched him lick his lips the way he did when he was nervous, moved his gaze further down and watched Jack swallow heavy. “It’ll be good to feel like myself again,” he finished, meeting Jack’s eyes.

Jack just nodded and started to dig in his shaving kit, easily finding a pair of scissors and pulled them out. “Turn back to the mirror,” Jack instructed. “Now, I’m no fancy salon stylist or anything, so you’ll probably have to get this fixed up when we get home.”

When we get home. The implication of that. Going back, with Jack at his side… Mac shivered and wanted to cry and felt so much relief he thought he might collapse.

And then Mac felt and heard the first tear of scissors through his hair. He trusted Jack. It would be good. Jack groomed himself often enough, he had to be good at it right? Mac didn’t care either way.

The hair fell to the floor, clump after clump, and Mac watched himself transform in the mirror.

Finally Jack grabbed a towel and dusted the extra hair from Mac’s shoulders. “Good as new.”

Now the hair fell to Mac’s ears and cheeks instead of his shoulders.

“Let me check the front,” Jack said, setting the scissors down and grabbing Mac’s shoulders to spin him. 

The warm contact sent electricity through Mac. Jack’s big callused hands gripping his bare skin. And that was something new; attraction had been playing at the edges of his feelings since Jack had picked him up at the dock, but now it roared through him and he understood why Jack leaving had been so difficult. It hit him in a rush that he loved Jack. They weren’t just friends, it was so much more than that.

Jack seemed to have missed Mac’s revelation, though he was sure it was clear on his face, and started running his hands through Mac’s hair. Bits and pieces of cut hair continued to fall, tickling at Mac’s shoulders.

“Yeah, I think it looks good,” Jack said. “I mean, like I said, not perfect… but I did my best.”

Mac still couldn’t speak. He was choked up with love and uncertainty and all he wanted was to fall into Jack and drown in him.

“What about that beard, huh?” Jack asked. “I mean, if you call that a beard.” He winked and dug back through his kit, pulling out his straight razor. “You never learned to shave with a straight razor, did you?”

Mac shook his head and swallowed heavily, trying to get his emotions back down into his chest instead of swimming around in his throat ready to burst out at any moment.

“Alright then, sit up on the vanity and I’ll take care of it,” Jack said.

The authority in his voice brooked no argument and Mac sat up on the counter.

Jack ran water in the sink, and spread some shaving cream over Mac’s face.

Then he stopped the water and stepped between Mac’s thighs.

And now it was impossible for Mac not to think dirty thoughts. Not to wonder what it would be like to be against Jack’s naked body as Jack’s hips pressed against Mac’s inner thighs.

Jack started to shave him, the most intimate and trusting act: a blade near some of the most tender places on the human body. Jack was quick and efficient, line after line of scraping blade against skin and hair.

Mac’s body was on fire, and he was so hard he was worried Jack would lean too far forward and feel it. Would it ruin them? Was Jack interested?

Jack’s breath danced over his throat. Jack’s hand held his head steady where he wanted. Jack’s hips slid rough friction against Mac’s thigh whenever he turned back to the sink to wash the blade off.

Finally it was done, the last stroke gone. Jack grabbed a cloth and wet it, wiping the excess cream from Mac’s skin.

“There he is,” Jack said softly.

“Who’s that?” Mac asked, coughing through the arousal and emotion still lodged in his throat.

Jack put the cloth down, and held Mac’s face in his hands, wiping his thumbs across the freshly shaved skin.

It was so intimate, and Mac knew without a doubt that Jack was in the same boat with him. It was too intimate for friends, so soft and loving and gentle, and the look in Jack’s eyes was unmistakeable lust and love.

“My Mac,” Jack answered.

Mac leaned forward and kissed Jack softly.

“I knew it,” Jack said with a grin against Mac’s lips, and then his grin faltered. “Well… I had hoped anyway.”

Mac wrapped his fingers around to the back of Jack’s neck and slid forward on the counter until his body was pressed against Jack’s. And then the kisses started in earnest, and got dirty fast.

The residue of the cream on Mac’s skin made their kisses taste like chemical, but he didn’t care. They shared tongues and spit and Mac wrapped his legs around Jack’s waist, causing a groan to rise up Jack’s throat, breaking their kiss apart.

“What say we skip the restaurant and order room service?” Jack asked.

“Later,” Mac replied before he pushed Jack away from the vanity so he could jump down and lead Jack out of the bathroom.

Their fingers tangled loosely together, and there was a nervousness thrumming between them. 

When they reached the edge of the bed that wasn’t covered in Jack’s clothes, Mac pulled him in close again. 

He wanted to soothe the anxiety out of both of them. He let his fingers trail up Jack’s arms.

“This is new,” Mac said, pressing at the muscles that were larger and harder than the last time Mac had put an arm around Jack’s shoulders.

“Yeah, well,” Jack ducked his head a little, but his hands snuck around Mac’s waist. “When you’re on a manhunt, any downtime you’ve got is pretty much reading the same shitty book over again, or doing more pushups.”

Mac put his fingers to Jack’s face and tipped his head up so their eyes could meet. Mac smiled wide. “It was the last Harry Potter book, wasn’t it?”

Jack grinned in return and leaned forward until their lips were teasing at each other. “You know me too well.” Just as Mac was about to open his mouth and start a dirty, wet kiss, Jack pulled back. “Talk about _me_ , though? Look at you!” Jack leaned back enough to look up and down. “I don’t know that I’ve ever seen you tan before. And I’m not the only one that bulked up a little.” He squeezed at Mac’s biceps.

Mac flexed them in return and grinned at Jack’s dropped jaw.

“Come on, I must have been at least this cut in the sandbox,” Mac said.

Jack nodded. “I was so busy bein’ pissed off at you I don’t remember much,” he replied, “plus with all that bulky gear on, it’s hard to tell.” He squeezed Mac’s arms again before his touch got soft, and he started tracing the lines of Mac’s body with gentle fingers: bicep to shoulder to collarbone; breastbone to bellybutton and down along the edge of the jeans he wore. Jack moved to pop the button when Mac intervened.

“No, no, no,” Mac scolded. “I don’t think so. No way am I going to end up all the way naked while you’re still fully dressed.” He pulled up on the hem of Jack’s t-shirt, brooking no argument as he pulled it up overhead. 

As soon as the shirt was gone, Jack opened his mouth probably to say something witty and ridiculously charming, but Mac didn’t give him the chance, closing their mouths together and cutting any words short with his tongue. Jack grunted an affirmative noise, set his hand to the back of Mac’s neck and met him with equal enthusiasm, wet and messy as though they were starring in a porno.

Their hands both fumbled at belts, and buttons and zippers while, at the same time, they tried to press close against each other. It wasn’t very effective. 

Eventually they ended up naked and grinding against each other, panting into each other’s mouths because they needed air but neither wanted to pull back from the kiss.

Jack turned them, their feet stumbling around each other, until he pushed Mac up against the mattress and gave him a shove.

Their kiss fell apart as Mac fell backwards with a gasped shout. He bounced a little on the bed and laid back; feet flat on the floor, torso stretched out on the mattress. Mac didn’t know what the next step was. He’d had encounters with men here and there, though some of the stigma from the army seemed to have gotten stuck rattling around his head and he usually kept those dates and hookups quiet. But he considered himself vers: top and bottom were both great, and he liked both equally. Thinking about either with Jack made him even more hard than he already was: Jack spread out under him while Mac fucked him into the mattress and wrestled beautiful sounds out of him; or Jack pushing into him, slow at first while he adjusted and then with the relentless and intense passion that Jack poured into everything until Mac fell apart in his arms.

Jack kneeled on the floor at the end of the bed, slowly pushing Mac’s knees apart. 

Unsure what to expect, Mac curled up a little to watch, his whole body tensing in anticipation.

Jack’s hands soothed up and down Mac’s thighs, rubbing firmly. “Relax Mac,” Jack said, licking his lips as he moved between Mac’s spread legs. “You trust me. I got you.” He paused, sliding his hands from thigh to hip and up as far as he could reach. “Come here.”

Mac sat up, and Jack kneeled up tall, stomach pressed firmly between Mac’s legs. They leaned together to kiss again, no tongues, just a soft opening of lips to each other, a sharing of breath. Jack’s arms wrapped around Mac’s middle, Mac’s around Jack’s shoulders and in that moment they became one; tangled up in each other, held tight and warm and perfectly in sync.

The kiss ended and they just held each other there, rocking back and forth a little.

“I didn’t know if you were coming back,” Mac confessed, his forehead pressed to Jack’s. It was a sad confession, but he was still smiling because he didn't have to worry about it anymore.

“I’ll always come back if I’m able,” Jack replied, dropping a few more soft, sweet kisses to Mac’s lips.

“If you’re able,” Mac repeated.

The silence hung between them, but despite their heavy words, the silence was comfortable. They were together, that was what mattered. Jack had come back this time.

Jack’s hands slid back around to Mac’s stomach and pushed him back again.

Mac let himself be pushed, giving up control. He laid back on the bed again, pillowing his head in his interlaced fingers to support his neck so he could watch.

Jack, never one for being subtle, wrapped his fingers around Mac’s cock, licked his lips, and slid his mouth down around Mac as far as he could go. Mac felt the back of Jack’s throat and choked out a moan that tumbled into Jack’s name. He let his head fall back into the soft bed and fisted at the blankets.

How long had it been since he’d had sex? He couldn’t even remember. For as long as his memory extended it had been relief with his hand when he felt the urge.

Jack’s mouth, wet and hot and eager, wasn’t going to take long to get Mac there.

Never one for dirty talk, Mac just let sounds be drawn from him, vibrating from his chest and throat across his tongue.

After one particularly dirty groan, Jack moaned in response, the echoed sound travelling through Mac’s skin and making him feel like he might explode.

“Jack!” Mac called out a warning. “It’s… I’m gonna come!” Unsure what Jack’s predilection was, Mac curled up to see what Jack would do.

Jack pulled his mouth off, leaving an impossible amount of wet saliva behind. He met Mac’s eye and spread that saliva with his hand, movements fast and tight.

Mac’s body wanted to lay back, to arch his back when he came, but he held steady, looking into Jack’s eyes when he orgasmed; holding that intimate moment between them as he grunted and groaned out his release.

Jack leaned forward and licked a few droplets of come from Mac’s stomach.

Mac did fall back at that, groaning as his body twitched, trying to rouse itself again, unsuccessfully. “Jack,” he drew the name out long and lewd.

“Mmm,” Jack said, smile evident in his voice, “shouldn’ta pulled off. You taste pretty damn good.”

“No way,” Mac said, “nobody’s come tastes good. Tolerable maybe, but not good.”

“Disagree hoss,” Jack said. He licked another wet spot on Mac’s stomach.

Mac tilted his head to watch Jack lick another little puddle from Mac’s skin. It lit a fire inside him. No one had ever claimed to like the taste of him before. Anyone he’d been with had avoided it, or done it but not looked terribly happy about the result. But Jack… Jack’s eyes were all pupil and excitement and enjoyment.

“Come here,” Mac said as he sat up. He grabbed at whatever of Jack he could reach: shoulders, hair, arms, and tugged trying to get Jack to stand.

Mac slid back on the mattress a little, not so close to the edge, and pulled Jack down to straddle his lap. He was heavy, the full weight of a big muscled man seated in Mac’s lap, and his body gave another interested surge, but he wasn't fifteen anymore, he needed a little more time than that no matter how excited.

Jack leaned down and kissed him, teasing at Mac’s lips even though they were open, asking permission to share the taste of Mac with himself. Mac thrust his tongue into Jack’s mouth in answer. It was bitter and salty with the tang of bodily fluid. It wasn’t great, but Jack seemed to enjoy it.

Mac slipped his hands down Jack’s body while they kissed and took hold of him, wrapped both hands around. He tested the waters at first, feeling the weight and heat of the cock in his hands; teasing his fingers from base to tip and feeling the curl of foreskin over the head. He drew the foreskin down and Jack stopped kissing; he didn’t pull away, just stilled entirely.

Mac pulled back so he could look down. He leaned forward and let a wet stream of saliva drip down to land on the head, and around his fingers.

Jack shuddered, hip hips moving a little into Mac’s hands.

Mac spread the spit down, curled both hands around and started a fast rhythm. He gripped tight and twisted and moved quickly.

Jack curled forward, resting his cheek on Mac’s shoulder.

“Tell me…” Mac panted, turning toward Jack’s ear, “if it’s too much.”

“No. Don’t stop,” Jack gasped, his mouth open to Mac’s shoulder, drooling a little. “God don’t stop Mac. It’s perfect.” He groaned between words. “You’re perfect. It’s… yes. Yes. Yes! Just like that, Mac. Oh god! Just what… I want… what I need.” The closer Jack got, the more his mouth started to run. “Can’t wait… shit I can’t wait… Mac… I want…”

“What?” Mac asked, rolling one palm over the head of Jack’s cock before gripping tight again. “Can’t wait for what Jack?”

“To actually…” Jack pressed his face into Mac’s neck and moaned loud, mouthing at the skin. “To fuck, Mac. I want everything. Wanna feel you…”

Mac wasn’t sure what that meant, wanted to be inside Mac or vice versa, but Mac didn’t care because he would take either or both. “I want that too, Jack,” he said, sounding broken in the best way, his voice hoarse with excitement.

Jack groaned at the reply.

Mac wasn’t sure what else Jack needed to get him over the edge. He was going to ask when Jack sat up. He met Mac’s eye, grabbed his shoulders for stability and roughly started to thrust into Mac’s hands.

Each and every muscle in Jack’s body tensed with the manic movements of his hips, rocking up into Mac’s fingers with urgency. It was the best show Mac could have hoped for their first time together: Jack’s entire body on display just for him in the most erotic way and so close.

Mac gripped tighter and the excitement of it all made his whole body tingle. “Holy shit Jack,” he huffed out almost in awe as he looked up at the man.

Jack’s fingers tightened, one hand moving up to fist in Mac’s hair. “Oh my god Mac!” He barked out, almost a scream, as he came. Come spilled sticky over Mac’s fingers and stomach. Jack’s hips continued to move, fucking through his orgasm into Mac’s hands.

Jack finally slowed his movements, settling down to sit in Mac’s lap again.

Mac stroked a few more times, Jack whimpering at the stimulation, before Mac pulled his hands away.

Jack tipped forward, forcing them to fall the bed. Mac instinctively wrapped his hands around Jack.

Jack kissed him again. Soft and sweet and little pecks, and he looked down at Mac after each one, the smile on his face growing by the second.

“Well that was a long time coming,” Jack said.

Mac laughed and tossed his head to get the hair out of his face, but he was slick with sweat. “No!” Mac laughed, “no puns! This is the worst possible time for puns.”

“There’s no bad time for puns,” Jack said as he reached up and wiped the strands of hair away from Mac’s eyes. “Puns are always acceptable.”

“Oh man I love you,” Mac huffed out without thinking about the words.

Jack didn’t even hesitate. “Love you too.” He shifted and Mac’s hands stuck to his back. “Think it’s time for another shower.”

Mac nodded. “Another shower, and then room service.”

Jack winked. “And then round two.”

Mac nodded his agreement and pushed up to kiss Jack again. “And then three, and four and…”

They sat talking over room service, dressed again, in underwear and t-shirts. Mac’s clothes were disgusting, so he was wearing Jack’s. It was a wonderful feeling, surrounded by Jack, smelling like him. They sat on one of the beds crosslegged, plates spread out between them, not caring if they spilled anything; they didn’t need both beds.

Jack told him everything about Kovacs, except for the most top secret things. Kovacs was dead now for good. Jack hadn’t dealt the killing blow, but he’d seen the body up close, checked the vitals himself. It was really over.

At hearing that, Mac heaved a sigh of relief.

“What about you hoss?” Jack asked through a mouthful of noodles. “What’re you doin’ all the way out here? I expected you to be savin’ the world still.”

Mac smiled, and looked down at the bowl in front of him. “Yeah… didn’t quite work out that way.”

“Matty wouldn’t tell me what happened,” Jack admitted, “told me I had to ask you. Your story to tell.”

Jack’s eyes were eager, and Mac didn’t want to hurt him. “I don’t want you to feel bad, ok?” Mac started.

“Why would I feel bad that you’ve been on vacation for six months?” Jack asked. “Well deserved muchaho.”

“You remember how I lost focus after Nikki?” Mac asked. “You gave me shit for a while cause my ‘head wasn’t in the game?’”

“It sure wasn’t,” Jack said, slurping soup.

“Well, imagine that but about a thousand times worse when you left,” Mac said. He poked at one of the dishes they hadn’t tried yet, and sucked a piece of fish off his chopsticks. Jack had ordered damn near the whole menu with the excuse that they needed to refuel for round two.

Jack started at him for a moment, his big brown puppy dog eyes looking sad, chopsticks frozen halfway between the bowl and his mouth until the noodles slipped back into the bowl with a slap.

“Here, try this one, it’s really good,” Mac slid the plate of fish toward Jack.

Jack complied, shovelling some of the fish into his mouth.

“You were always kind of my…” Mac searched for the right word, the way he’d been searching the world for what Jack meant to him. “My rock, I guess. You helped me focus my thoughts. I never really understood what that meant before I saw you today. I always just thought we were codependent best friends. So Matty forced me on leave.”

“Where’d you get off to?” Jack asked. “Riley said you’ve been bouncing around the world all over the place.” He cursed suddenly, preventing Mac from answering, and reached toward the bedside table where his phone sat.

“What?” Mac asked.

“Riley. I told her I’d call her when I found you,” Jack said as he unlocked the phone. “But I was a bit distracted.” He looked up, raised one eyebrow and winked before turned his attention back to the phone. He put it on speaker and threw it onto the bed between them.

It only rang once before Riley answered. “Jack? What’s up? Did you find Mac?”

Jack looked at Mac expectantly and pointed at the phone.

“Hey Riles,” Mac said.

“You absolute asshole,” she said. “You could call us once in a while you know? Let us know you’re ok?”

“I’m really sorry Riley,” Mac replied earnestly. “I was a little wrapped up in my own head.”

“I’m just glad you’re alright,” she said.

“He’s totally alright,” Jack broke in, “and you owe me pizza and skeeball.”

“What?” Her voice squeaked across the line.

“I was totally right,” Jack said.

“And by totally right you mean…” Riley drew the last word out long.

“Look, I’m not gonna give you the gory details,” Jack replied, “but let’s just say we were a little preoccupied and that’s why it took me so long to call you back.”

“Preoccupied, like _preoccupied_?” Riley asked.

Mac laughed. “You guys had a bet on us?”

“Damn right,” Jack said. “I told Riley I was gonna go find you and tell you how I really felt, and she told me I was crazy and that we were just friends.”

“Ok, wait, I didn’t say it like that,” Riley said. “I didn’t want… Jack I just didn’t want…”

“Me to get hurt,” Jack finished softly, “I understand. But don’t think that gettin’ all sentimental and protective is gonna make me forget that you owe me pizza and skeeball when I get back.”

“When exactly will that be?” Riley asked. “Now that you guys have this all figured out, when are you coming back?”

Jack shrugged and looked at Mac.

“I’m kinda committed to a project here right now,” Mac replied, “and I really need to stay and finish. Might be a few more weeks, maybe a month or two. It depends on if there are any more big road blocks.”

“And I’m gonna stick around and help,” Jack said matter-of-factly, popping some shrimp into his mouth. “Won’t hurt your project none to have a big tough son of a gun like me around.”

“No it won’t,” Mac replied, feeling sentimental suddenly. He got up on his knees and leaned over the plates, which clacked against each other with the movement of the squishy mattress. He took Jack’s cheek in hand and kissed him softly.

“Ok, ok,” Riley said, “I’m not on video but I can hear you guys kissing. So I’m gonna go now.”

“We’ll call you again tomorrow Riles,” Mac said against Jack’s lips.

“Yeah,” Jack said absently, focused on Mac, “tomorrow sometime.” He reached over and hit the “end call” button, making sure the phone was off before he grabbed Mac’s face and slipped his salty, fish sauce flavoured tongue into Mac’s mouth.

After dinner, despite the late hour, they couldn’t keep their hands off each other, and undressed again. Between kisses they talked about what they wanted, about their experience. Jack said he’d be interested in bottoming sometime, but that he’d never done it before. Mac quickly volunteered. Of course Jack had brought lube with him, considering the hopeful reason for his quest to find Mac. It was a fresh bottle, unopened, and for some reason that made Mac feel good; like somehow he was the only person for Jack.

Jack opened him up slowly, carefully. The large deft fingers of someone who’d been a sniper for years reached into Mac softly and gently and coaxed him to relax. It was easy to give in to Jack, who he trusted with his life, and his heart now too. Well, maybe he’d trusted Jack with his heart for a long time and hadn’t realized.

Once he was ready, he pushed Jack up to sit against the headboard, and slid down on top, slowly taking Jack inside.

After the first slow slide, taking time to adjust so it would be really good, Mac started a slow rhythm, just the good side of torturous.

He rode Jack for what felt like at least an hour, with that slow perfect pace that almost could have been measured with a metronome. It kept them both on edge, but prevented them from going over, and built the most amazing feeling in Mac. It was like he was slowly gathering all of the pleasure in his body up into a pool in his gut, just waiting to release it all at once, like water cupped in his hands. Each pass of Jack inside him, each meeting of their hips, trickled a little more gathered pleasure into that pool.

Mac was covered in sweat, little rivers of it running over him everywhere, gathering droplets on his tanned skin, dripping onto Jack to mix with his sweat.

Jack’s hands ran all over Mac’s body constantly, while Jack looked up at him in awe. “I wish I could touch you forever,” he exhaled the words slowly as his fingers slipped in sweat whenever they tried to get a good grip. Jack’s hands continued to roam, but there was one place he never touched. He never took Mac in hand, never tried to make him come. There was something unspoken between them that they wanted it to last as long as possible.

Mac curled forward to kiss him. “You can touch me as much as you want,” he said, “please don’t stop.” Through their kisses he kept up the slow movements of his hips with barely a thought: it had gone on so long now that it was muscle memory and he didn’t even need to focus on it anymore.

“Never,” Jack replied between kisses, his hand slipping up into Mac’s sweat-damp hair.

When Mac sat up, Jack shifted inside him, pressing more urgently in just the right spot with every slow slide. Mac’s pleasure built more quickly, and without warning spilled out of him. His body twitched on top of Jack, keeping the slow up and down, forward and back motion going. But he felt like he was burning from the inside out; even after the initial flood of orgasm, it continued, drawn out like the sex as a whole. Mac’s body kept twitching, and more come dribbled from his body as he tried to ride that wave for as long as he could.

“Are you…” Jack groaned, his eyes growing wider. “Still coming?”

“Oh my god,” Mac moaned, afraid to stop, afraid to speak in case it stopped the orgasm that wouldn’t stop coursing through him. “Yes. Yes,” he hissed as though it were a secret. But it continued, wringing more drops of come from him, untouched.

“Holy hell!” Jack’s hands grasped, closing around Mac’s arm and wrist convulsively as he came.

The orgasm faded from Mac slowly, leaving him wrung out and feeling weak. And even then, after he stilled his hips and fell on top of Jack, if Jack shifted just a little, it would cause Mac to twitch with pleasurable aftershocks.

Jack’s hand was in his hair, rubbing softly at his scalp. “Holy shit,” Jack breathed out, panting hard into Mac’s ear. “I have never…”

“Me neither,” Mac said brokenly into Jack’s skin, his voice cracking, his mouth dry.

“We’re gonna run this hotel outta hot water,” Jack said, “all the showers we’re takin’.”

Mac started to laugh, and couldn’t stop. He felt his mouth stretch wide into that smile he hadn’t used in over six months. Jack laughed in turn and they shook against each other, still naked and sweaty from sharing something so intimate, Jack still inside him, and yet the laughter was just as intimate; a private moment shared, an understanding. Mac let himself sink into those two kinds of comfort and closeness, and realized he’d never given into someone like that before, given his whole self away. And with Jack he did it without hesitation, without question.

“God it feels good to be happy,” Mac slurred against Jack’s wet skin.

“I know the feeling hoss,” Jack replied, fingers still in Mac’s hair. “I know just what you mean.”

**Author's Note:**

> I do not speak Vietnamese in ANY WAY... please let me know if anything is terribly wrong... I used Google Translate which I know can epically fail in the best of circumstances.


End file.
